


Almost

by Tessa_Harrison



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Gen, M/M, mentions of potential relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-04
Updated: 2014-09-04
Packaged: 2018-02-16 04:17:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2255592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tessa_Harrison/pseuds/Tessa_Harrison
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Manager/Idol AU</p><p>Niou makes every manager assigned to him run away. What's the solution? Give him to Tezuka.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Almost

**Author's Note:**

  * For [feihu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/feihu/gifts).



Niou leaned back, resting his boots on the boss' desk. “We're doing this again?” He asked. “The last one you tried to force on me ran away like a little baby.”

It earned him a chuckle. The man sitting across him pushed Niou's feet off, causing them to hit the ground with a loud thud. “If you manage to scare this one away, I'll manage you myself.”

Really? Niou whistled. He wasn't sure he liked the sound of that. Yukimura was a cool guy and Niou had nothing but respect for the guy but he was also one of the scariest motherfuckers on the planet. Even his pet gorilla wasn't nearly as terrifying. Intimidating yes, scary no. “You'd have the time for that?”

“I'd make the time for you.”

Niou suppressed a shiver. The words might have been kind but the look in Yukimura's eyes threatened to make Niou's life hell.

The gorilla appeared, opening the door as a welcoming distraction. Sanada walked in. Behind him, Niou could make out another man who looked like another one of the generic agency suits. One of those boring guys who broke so fast and easily that it wasn't even fun.

“Seriously?” He asked Yukimura. This wasn't some elaborate set-up to put Niou completely under the boss' thumb, was it? “A week. At most. You're not even trying anymore, are you?”

“See how he vastly underestimates you, Tezuka?” Yukimura said with a laugh. Niou didn't like the sound of it. And that name...it was familiar but he couldn't place from where. The guy certainly didn't look familiar. He was handsome if you went for the boring office drone look but that was about it. The suit was higher quality than the last couple of people Yukimura had tried to throw at Niou. He wanted to groan. Niou better not be the first assignment they were giving this Tezuka. It was no fun when they were spineless newbies.

The glasses were sharp though.

“Should I be worried?” Tezuka adjusted the glasses. Interesting. It was a serious voice but not boring. Better than listening to some of the others in the agency. At least Niou wasn't going to get a headache from this one's nagging. He couldn't say the same for some of the other managers they'd given him.

Yukimura shrugged. “Vaguely. Starting today, you'll be the one handling him.”

“Oh, you make it sound so naughty when you put it that way.” Niou raised his eyebrows suggestively at the boss. He wasn't surprised when Yukimura didn't respond. “Like I said, I give this one a week at most.”

“That's what you said about the last one and she lasted three weeks.”

“You gave her a vacation for two of them.” Which was cheating. Those two weeks should not count and therefore Niou was right and Yukimura was wrong.

Tezuka walked over, standing next to Yukimura which put him in front of Niou. The only way this one could get more boring looking was if he slicked his hair back. “Am I allowed to change any of his image?” Tezuka asked, appearing to ignore everyone else. Smart. Maybe this one wouldn't be a total airhead.

Niou played with his purple-streaked ponytail. It was starting to fade. Maybe pink? He'd done that a few months ago and it had looked sharp. “You fuck up my image and we're both out of a job. Gotta stay the agency bad boy and all that crap.”

Personally he didn't care what people thought of him. Niou was just glad he wasn't supposed to be all prim and proper like some of the other guys. He'd rather die than look like an Atobe clone. Or worse, gorilla clone.

By the door of the room, the gorilla snorted. Stretching back on the chair, Niou gave Sanada a smile. Oh, there went that annoying knot in the middle of his back. Apparently Sanada was useful for something after all. “Oh come on. You of all people know just how much the people love me like this. We can't all be old men who spend our days playing shogi and crap like that.” 

And then Tezuka decided to do something surprising. He spoke, causing all eyes to turn towards him. “Are we still meeting on Saturday for that?”

“At the usual time,” Sanada confirmed.

The fuck? Apparently it showed on Niou's face because Yukimura started laughing. “Tezuka is an old friend Sanada's.”

Oh. Well then. Just great. Niou scowled. He was getting stuck with a boring stick-in-the-mud guy who was going to tell the gorilla every little thing about Niou's life. Yukimura was an evil bastard. “He's actually been with us for years,” the evil bastard added.

“Where you been hiding this one?” He was fairly sure he knew everyone that worked for the agency, both talents and management. He'd never seen Tezuka before. Niou knew he would have remembered. It was one of his many talents, remembering names and faces.

Yukimura decided to ignore the question. “He's yours now. No less challenging than the last but a different set of challenges.”

Niou crossed his arms and put his feet back on the desk. “I'm not some kind of fucking dog.”

“If you want, you can change the hairstyle.” Yukimura smiled sweetly at Niou.

“No one touches my hair.” Niou glared, meeting the challenge. “Got that?”

Tezuka was either smart or oblivious because he didn't acknowledge the growing tension in the room. “We should leave. He's supposed to be at the recording studio in an hour,” the guy said, looking at his phone. Niou wanted to roll his eyes but he was in the middle of a staring contest with Yukimura. He knew he was going to lose but he didn't want to give in too early.

“We're getting ice cream on the way,” Niou replied, feeling the burn as tears prickled his eyes. Yukimura, the evil bastard that he was, had yet to even twitch a muscle.

“No ice cream,” Tezuka answered. “Am I going to need to fix his diet?” The last question was obviously directed towards one of the others in the room. If he could have scowled without it making him potentially blink, Niou would have. He was not a fan of his newest manager's apparent habit of talking about Niou like the guy wasn't even there.

“You can try,” Yukimura answered. He didn't seem to have the same troubles as Niou

Relief finally came when he blinked. “I'm right here,” he reminded even though he knew it was unnecessary. “Next time you got a question, you ask me.”

The car ride was one of the most godawful things Niou had ever experienced in his life. It was long and boring. Tezuka didn't talk. Hell, Niou almost wondered if the guy was a robot. He reached for the radio, flipping it on. No doubt it'd be news or some book or something boring like that. Niou didn't understand why someone would want to attempt to learn anything in a car. It made no sense.

“Really?” Niou asked, side-eyeing the guy. F-Company pop was the last thing Niou had expected to hear. Just who in the world had Yukimura stuck him with?

“It's a rental,” Tezuka answered, reaching over to turn it off. His eyes never even left the road. Yeah, right. If it were really a rental, the guy wouldn't be able to do that.

“So who'd you work with before?” Niou would find out one way or another. It'd be easier if Tezuka just told him but even if the guy was uncooperative, well, that just made it more fun for Niou. No response came, effectively shutting down any attempts at conversation.

A quiet car was a boring car and a bored Niou was something people tried to avoid. He shifted, curling up in the seat with his knees practically touching his chin. This meant his boots were on the dash. Tezuka twitched but that was about it. Maybe the robot theory held some merit.

-_-

 

“You have got to be kidding me.” Niou stopped dead in his tracks as he stared at the set of his new music video. Day one hadn't even started and he wondered if he was allowed to turn around and run away. Everywhere he looked vomit-inducing shades of pink. He might have had a matching shade in his hair but that didn't mean he wanted to be surrounded by it.

He turned to Tezuka who had squeezed in. “Please tell me this is all your doing.” Not that Niou believed it to be. If anything the last month stuck with the guy had taught him it was that Tezuka was a persistent bastard with the sense of humor a wall would envy.

“I believe it's all the director's vision,” the guy replied, reading something on his phone. “He's a friend of someone Yukimura knows.”

“His old college roommate,” Niou growled. He knew about all of that already. It was apparently some favor for the guy. “I'm going to kill them all for this.”

“Do it after you've shot the video.”

Was that supposed to be a joke? Niou stared, trying to figure it out. Nothing on the robot's face indicated it was but then, Tezuka was unreadable. It was disturbing if he really wanted to think about it. “You're no fun,” he ultimately decided.

“As you've constantly reminded me.” Tezuka put the phone in his pocket. “Hair and make-up are summoning you.”

Niou grimaced. Hair and make-up were annoying. All they did was poke and prod and want to talk about love lives. Still it was a necessary evil he knew he had to deal with. The sooner it was done with, the better.

“Your new manager's a cute one.”

Dammit, the woman had to start with that. Niou wished he could move but currently it felt like his hair was being yanked out of his head. “He's a robot in a suit,” he replied. “You're not going to get anywhere if you try flirting.”

He almost wanted her to try. It'd be amusing to watch that go down. Who would be more awkward? Niou wasn't sure and didn't know if he could quite picture that happening. “How much longer is this going to take?”

“Just a few minutes,” she answered. “And then wardrobe needs you.”

“Why did you guys have me do hair first?” It seemed a backwards way to do things.

“No one told you?” The hairdresser tsked. “You're wearing wings that will make sitting impossible.”

Niou stared at the wings. “Kill me now,” he growled under his breath. That was it. Yukimura, the director, the guy who knew both of them, everyone involved. They were going down. “Those are angel wings. I thought this was a demon-themed thing.”

After all, it was for a dark moody song. An angel theme was stupid for it. “You're an angel walking among demons,” Tezuka's voice said from behind Niou. He'd have turned to look at the guy but that was currently impossible without yanking all the hair on his head out.

The idea made Niou want to gag. “It's going to be full of symbolic bullshit isn't it,” he groaned.

“It's your song,” Tezuka responded. “You're here shooting for the next three days. Nothing else is on your schedule for the rest of the week.”

The calendar feature of the Tezuka robot was getting old. Being reminded of every little thing was just plain annoying. Niou was trying to figure out a way to turn it off but he was about as close to succeeding in that as he was to figuring out just what the guy's past was. Which honestly meant he had figured out essentially nothing. He still hadn't even been able to find out who the last person Tezuka had managed was. The hush-hush surrounding whatever situation that was went up high. Niou wasn't certain but he was fairly sure Yukimura was somehow involved.

“Do I get a special treat if we knock it all out today?” Niou winced as the stylist yanked on a patch of hair connected to a particularly sensitive part of his scalp. Then again, it wouldn't have been sensitive if she hadn't spent the last hour attempting to pull all the hair on his head out one strand at a time.

“Yukimura wants to see you.”

“So we're not doing this in a day,” Niou replied. He wasn't sure what game the agency head honcho was playing but Niou felt like the wisest place was as far away as he could get especially since he had been wrong about the whole Tezuka only lasting a week thing.

“Are you saying you plan on purposely dragging out production just to avoid seeing him?” Niou could just hear the scorn in his manager's voice.

“It wouldn't be the first time,” Niou answered, trying to ignore the feeling of judgment. “You would too if you were in my shoes.”

There was silence which just made the judging silence even heavier. Thankfully the woman who had been trying to yank his hair out announced she was done and he could go to wardrobe. Which meant giant angel. Yeah, real improvement there.

To say they were monstrous would be an understatement. Niou stared at the things, fighting back the urge to once again throw up. “Is this guy colorblind?” He could only hope. The things were as tall as he was and pastel yellow. With glitter.

“No, the video's being shot with in black and white.” Tezuka had followed over. Probably to fulfill some voyeuristic kink or some shit like that.

“And we need princess fucking play-land for that?” Niou reached over to grab the costume marked with his name. It was white which made sense with the whole apparent cliche fallen angel motif the director was going for. Personally Niou would have put himself more in the devil group but that was just him. Devils just had more fun. Angels were like Tezuka, all uptight and no fun and crap like that.

Tezuka didn't respond which meant a yes. “You sticking around to watch?” Niou asked, spying the manager standing in front of the doorway.

“The way you've been acting, I wouldn't be surprised if you tried to runaway without doing your job.”

Add asshole to the list of things Tezuka was. Robot, stubborn, and asshole. It was now a whole three fucking things he knew about the guy and honestly, Niou wasn't a fan of any of them. Well if he was going to stick around, Niou figured he might as well as try to make Tezuka as uncomfortable as possible.

He pulled his shirt off slowly, watching as Tezuka looked down in what could only be an attempt to not watch. Prude could possibly be added to the little list Niou had going. Niou didn't really see what the big deal was. They were both guys. It wasn't like he was hiding a pair of tits under the thing. “You never played sports or anything, did you?”

“What makes you think that?” Tezuka's gaze was firmly planted on the guy's feet. If it weren't so pitiful, it'd be hilarious.

“If you could look at yourself, you'd understand. You're acting like you've never seen a dick before.” Not that Niou's was out but it was the general thought. “You do have one, right? Or are you really a robot under that suit?”

“Are you always so crass?” Tezuka was going to cut his feet off soon if his laser-beam stare was anything to go by.

Niou grabbed the pants, changing into the white pair set out for him. They were leather and soft to the touch. Whoever was in charge of styling, well, Niou wasn't sure about their taste. “Only when I want to be.”

“Don't I feel lucky,” Tezuka said with a sigh.

Niou had to laugh. Was that a hint of a sense of humor? “It's safe to look up,” he added as he picked up the vest that went with the outfit. It was white like the rest of the outfit but the back had slots where those monstrosities called wings obviously hooked in. “I think I might need you to help anyway.”

He didn't miss the wince as Tezuka looked at the wings. They really were terrible and Niou was dreading putting them on. However, Tezuka decided to grab the stylist to help. Boring though albeit probably for the best. At least, that's what Niou thought until he saw who the stylist was.

To say the stylist was a fashion train-wreck would be an understatement. The shoulders were neon green lip prints on an equally neon pink background. The left half was zebra print and Niou could make out a few zebras among the print. The right was just a bad, this time with a flower pattern that apparently took the color scheme of vomit and ran with it. Niou hadn't even known vomit had a color scheme until he saw that shirt. The pants...were shit plaid. There was no kinder way to describe it, not when it was mustard, shit brown, and green.

Niou suddenly gained an appreciation for Tezuka's simple, boring suits. At least they didn't make him want to gouge his eyes out in an attempt to keep his sanity. The only positive was that he could see Tezuka attempting to avert his gaze from the new person as well.

The wings were a pain in the ass. They were heavy on his shoulders and limited his movement. Whoever designed them had obviously never thought about just what it would be like to actually were the godforsaken things.

“How long am I supposed to wear these?” He didn't mean for it to come out as a whine but it did. It felt like he had a person hanging off his back; the weight was that bad. He was suddenly glad for some of the training from hell Yukimura and his gorilla liked to submit all their artists to. Without it, Niou was fairly sure he'd be kissing the floor right now.

“As long as needed,” Tezuka replied. He was looking down at his phone, not paying attention to the fact that Niou was frozen in place. There wasn't much Niou was afraid of but he wasn't about to take a step with this freaking wings on unless he had something or someone to hold onto.

“Well I'm not going anywhere right now.” Niou didn't want to admit he was having issues with the whole moving situation. It should have been obvious anyway from the way he hadn't moved since the stupid wings had been clipped into the vest.

“And why not?” Tezuka asked, looking up from his phone.  
Niou stared. Was his manager really that blind? He hadn't been a little bit ago when the wardrobe stylist had come in. “If I attempt to walk, I'm on the ground,” he finally admitted. “Now someone help.”

If he didn't know better, Niou would have thought that the look on Tezuka's face was amused. But it couldn't be. After all, the guy was a robot incapable of showing any emotion other than blank. If you counted blank as an emotion.

-_-

Relief was immediate as the giant pain in the ass wings thunked loudly on the ground. Niou couldn't find it in himself to care if they were damaged or not. Personally, he was hoping they were because he refused to wear them another day. Stupid, painful, and annoying, that's what they were. Usually he didn't care what people thought of him and what he wore, case in point being his entire closet in his apartment, half of it being for various cosplays when he wanted to sneak away for a day of fun. But these wings? Absolutely ridiculous and something he never wanted to see again.

“Can we go?” Niou asked as he sank into the plush-looking chair someone had dragged over. It'd been used in the video though not by Niou. He'd been jealous at the time but now he was just sorry for the poor guy who'd had to sit in it earlier. The thing might look comfy but it was anything but.

Tezuka didn't answer right away. Instead, he was staring at his handy dandy phone like it was made of fucking shit or something. Okay, that was an exaggeration but it was interesting that he was showing something other than blank. There was a very obvious little frown on his face.

“Do you have family nearby?”

Odd question. Niou shook his head. “They all live halfway around the world or don't talk to me.” It kind of sucked that his family was so far but it did give him a little freedom. He didn't have to worry about his mom calling about every little thing he did like some of the other artists he knew. 

“Friends?”

Niou stared. “What's with the questions?” He wasn't sure why Tezuka was on this information fishing expedition but Niou wanted a few answers before he answered them.

“Do you have anyone you can stay with for the night?”

What the hell? Niou raised an eyebrow. He was friendly with a few of the agency artists, like the redhead guy down the hall who liked to cook for everyone but that was about the extent of it. Niou didn't mind people, he just didn't like them in his personal space so close friends weren't exactly a thing with him, not since the bastard had decided to just up and leave.

“Is that an invite to your place?” Might as well watch Tezuka squirm.

The brunet sighed. “Do you really have no other place to go?”

Shit, what the fuck had happened? Niou shook his head. “Unless Yukimura's going to pay for a hotel room.” And if so, it had best be the swankiest fucking place in town because if the boss was paying, Niou was going to take advantage of that.

“The company owned apartments you live in have been evacuated,” Tezuka answered. “There was a fire in one of the units caused by faulty wiring so until that can be dealt with, no one's allowed in or out.”

Niou whistled. Not good. “Am I allowed to get clothes or anything from in it?” Otherwise he was stuck with what he'd worn here and the white ensemble he'd been in all day.

“No one in or out,” Tezuka repeated. “Do you have no one?”

“Nope. Not one.” Niou shook his head and grinned. “So, your place?”

The surprising part? It worked.

Niou zoomed in on the relatively large sofa that took up a decent portion of the main area of Tezuka's apartment. It was comfortable, far more than it had looked. “You got a swanky pad, robot man,” he called out. Tezuka was out of sight but Niou could hear the other moving.

From his spot, it was easy to tell the guy was a bachelor. No woman Niou knew would live in a place that was all clean lines and shades of grey. It looked nice but it lacked that lived in feeling that he remembered both his mom and sister always going nuts over. Plus there were no pictures on the walls or toys anywhere or anything like that. The only sign of life at all in the place? A small shrine in the corner with a bonsai next to it.

“Aren't guys like you usually married?” Niou continued. He was a bit surprised. Sure, no ring on Tezuka's finger had indicated he was probably single but Niou had trouble seeing Tezuka wear jewelry anyway. Besides, who knew? Maybe he'd get lucky tonight and finally get a little dirt on the guy. Robot man had to have some sort of weakness.

“Usually,” was Tezuka's response. It came from the other side of the sofa where Niou was unable to see. “Would you like something to drink?”

Kitchen it was then. “You don't have to play perfect host.” Not that Niou expected Tezuka to listen. Robots had to follow their programming. “What's with the plant?”

“Her name is Marilyn,” Tezuka answered, voice getting louder as he entered Niou's field of vision. In his hands were two slightly steaming mugs. How he'd gotten whatever it was to heat up so fast Niou had no clue. They'd been in the place for five, maybe ten, minutes max. He set one on the table in front of Niou.

“What? Don't trust me with your good wine?” Niou grinning, leaving the mug alone for now. Tezuka sat directly across from him on the floor. If Niou hadn't had to deal with those ridiculous wings all day, he might have felt bad about his host being on the floor but he couldn't find it in himself to care. Instead, he continued to take up the entire sofa.

“What do you think?”

Was that a hint of a smirk on Tezuka's face? Niou stared, sure that for a moment, the guy had shown something other than blank or frowny face. While it appeared he had a slight opening, Niou decided to see just how far he could push the limits. “What's the deal with Marilyn then?”

“My grandfather,” Tezuka gave a nod in the direction of the shrine. “He started cultivating her when he enrolled in the academy.”

Compared to everything else over the last few weeks, tonight was turning into a veritable treasure trove of information. Niou almost wished the faulty wiring in his apartment had acted up sooner. “I have so many questions about everything you just said,” Niou admitted as he sat up. “Why Marilyn?”

It was a perfectly good question. The name was on the strange side. And it was a plant. With a name. In his experience, only the really odd ones named their plants.

“My grandfather admired an actress from the States with the same name when he was younger.” Tezuka's face was back to blank. Still, Niou realized he had the guy talking which was an improvement over, well, everything ever. And apparently Tezuka really was a human and not a robot. Niou kind of doubted a robot having grandparents. What would that even be? Like, would a robot call a rice cooker grandma and a tv grandpa?

“What academy was your gramps in?”

Niou didn't miss the twitch of Tezuka's eye. Family was a big deal apparently, not that that was any huge surprise. Tezuka had wonder-son written all over him.

No answer came. Niou pulled his legs to his chest, resting his chin on his knees. It wasn't the most comfortable of positions but it helped make him look almost innocent and curious. He doubted Tezuka would fall for it but that was beside the point. Watching the now quiet host, Niou found it interesting how the guy was all willing to spill about grandpa's crush on an American actress but talking about whatever academy the guy had been in was apparently too much.

“Your information sharing priorities are seriously screwed up,” was what he finally landed on. It was the only reasonable explanation Niou could think of.

For the briefest of moments, Niou thought he saw a smile grace the robot's face. Maybe Tezuka was secretly a masochist? He didn't quite seem like the type. Niou decided to tuck the thought away. He'd find some way to test it out at a later point. Instead he waited to see if talkative Tezuka was sticking around. After all, who knew when an opportunity like this would reappear?

Unfortunately, Tezuka had taken this as a sign to stop being so helpful. Annoying but not much Niou could do about that just now. He looked around, trying to see if there was something to do. “No tv?” He asked, realizing he didn't see one or anything resembling one anywhere. The spartan apartment suddenly became ten times worse when Niou realized all there was was the sofa, the two of them, Marilyn, and Gramps.

“It's an unnecessary distraction.” Tezuka took a drink, looking so extremely prim and proper that it was hard not to laugh.

Niou stretched his legs. He hated how restless but exhausted he felt. All he wanted to do was curl up somewhere or run around but both those ideas sounded absolutely amazing and horrible all at the same time. “You do realize what industry you work in, right?”

Most people would have at least attempted having one as a means of research if they even tried to justify having one at all. “Seriously though, tell me this: how do you live? No tv, you don't listen to the radio,” at least not whenever Niou was in the car which was seriously annoying at best and fucking torture at worst, “and no people at home.”

Niou shook his head. “Are you a robot? I know I've made a few jokes about it but you're making me really wonder what I'd find if I went into your room. Like, if I did, would I found something freaky giant electrical charger or something?”

“I can assure you that there is nothing of the sort in my bedroom.”

The sad part was that Niou almost didn't buy it. Almost. It wasn't like he was a completely gullible fool like that one kid on the floor above him. The kid still believed in Santa for fucks sake and he was only a couple of years younger than Niou himself.

“I feel like I should go check.” Niou let his voice trail off, enjoying seeing the slight panic in Tezuka's eyes before he realized Niou wasn't moving at all. Apparently there was something good in the room. Maybe he'd have to figure out a way to snoop in there. Well get in there anyway. Though doing that would require moving and Niou was just in that spot where he was starting to get comfy. This sofa was amazing and he wanted ten for himself, nevermind the fact that his apartment would probably only be able to fit three of them or possibly four if he felt like giving up what amounted to his kitchen and restroom spaces.

Moral of the story: company owned apartments sucked and Niou needed to find a way into a place like this.

“What color should I do next?” Because the quiet disturbed Niou. He didn't mind quiet but this wasn't the comforting sort. “The pink's almost faded out.”

Tezuka didn't answer right away. In fact, he'd nearly given up when Tezuka said, “green.”

“I think it's been a year since I've done green,” Niou admitted. He fingered a section of the fading pink. It would be that difficult to cover it up and it'd be different. A nice eye-searing neon shade shouldn't be too hard to find. Of course, there was a reason why he'd stayed away from the color. “My last real manager liked that color.”

He didn't know why he said it. The whole sharing personal information about himself wasn't exactly something Niou liked to do. Most people, himself included, were assholes. Why give someone more ammo than you had to?

“He enrolled in the police academy where he served for a number of years before settling as a teacher there.”

What the hell was that? Niou crossed his arms. Tezuka, you were a sick bastard if you were doing this whole tell a truth, receive a truth bullshit. Not fun or fair. “And you somehow ended up in the entertainment business.” Please let there be a story there.

“I did.”

“How did that happen?” Niou finally reached over to the mug that had been set in front of him earlier. It was cool but he tried not to let part show on his face. He could pull off his own version of blank when he wanted.

“The honest truth? Sanada and Yukimura.” Tezuka didn't elaborate which was a shame because that alone had given Niou a million questions he was dying to know the answers to.

“You need to give me more than that.” Some things just needed to be answered and this was one of those, especially since Tezuka seriously appeared to have showed up out of nowhere. All his research on the guy had revealed a whole load of nothing until tonight.

Tezuka have a long, slow blink as if he was having trouble comprehending just what Niou had said. It was on purpose. He could tell, having perfected the same technique long ago. Tezuka wasn't supposed to be a tricky bastard though. The guy was wonder-son perfect robot guy. Those kinds of nerds were supposed to be all helpful and crap. Someone hadn't received the memo.

“My grandfather and Sanada's were friendly rivals so we were raised the same,” Tezuka answered. “Yukimura brought Sanada into the business and they convinced me it was the best place for myself to go.”

Seriously? That was nowhere near as exciting as Niou hoped. “Still not going to tell me who your last artist was?”

“I'd rather not.” Tezuka's eyes flickered towards something on the wall behind Niou. “It's getting late. I assume you'll be fine where you are?”

“I'm not going to drop it you know,” Niou warned. “But yeah, here works unless you decide to drag me to your bed.” Which given the guy's apparent taste in furniture was probably really nice. Niou closed his eyes. He could hear the sounds of Tezuka walking around, of the guy washing out at least one of the mugs. It was weirdly domestic feeling, something Niou couldn't remember experiencing since he'd lived at home with his family. That had been years ago and felt like an entirely different lifetime.

He felt like he was floating in a state of sheer existence. Niou knew he wasn't asleep but he must have been at least a little out of it because the next thing he knew, Tezuka was lightly shaking him and saying his name.

When Niou opened his eyes, he noticed the lighting in the room had been dimmed considerably and Tezuka wasn't wearing his normal suit but instead what had to be his pajamas. The table in front of Niou held a blanket, pillow, and a similar set of pajamas. “I think we're close enough in size that they'll fit,” Tezuka said before Niou could say anything. “The washroom is the door next to the refrigerator.”

Niou nodded and his host disappeared through a different door to what was likely his bedroom. Realizing he was essentially alone and not absolutely dead tired, Niou stood, curious to see what mysteries Tezuka's place held.

It wasn't a huge place but he'd already noticed that. There wasn't much in the way of decorations other than Gramps and Marilyn. Niou realized the sofa he'd taken over served to try and separate the kitchen and general living areas. It worked as well as it could in the space. A few spots on the walls looked like they might have once held pictures but nothing hung now. It gave the place a bare feeling and it didn't feel like someone truly lived here. The personal touches just weren't there.

Snagging the clothes, Niou headed towards the washroom. It was small and cramped but at least there were a few signs that someone lived in the apartment here. A few simple looking blue towels were stashed on a shelf, in the shower combined shampoo/conditioner, a blue toothbrush on the sink. Niou couldn't find himself to be that surprised if blue was Tezuka's favorite color. It seemed to fit the guy, especially since everything was in a dark navy shade. The pajamas were soft and they'd been a nice touch, one he hadn't expected.

“Not even the bastard would had done that,” Niou admitted, snorting in amusement. That guy would have left Niou completely to his own devices for everything instead of actually being a decent host. Not that Niou was comparing the two or saying that Tezuka was better. He was just different.

Come morning, Niou learned another thing about Tezuka. The guy was an early riser who liked the windows open at an ungodly hour. A face full of sunlight was definitely not Niou's preferred way of waking up.

“Breakfast will be ready in 15 minutes,” Tezuka replied to the groan Niou gave at the blinding he'd received thanks to the sun.

“What time is it?” Niou asked though he doubted he could be heard thanks to the pillow over his face. Anything to block out the sun. He didn't know the exact time, just that it had to be early with the sun being as horribly bright as it was. No answer came, proving him right.

The guy wasn't much a cook but Niou wisely kept quiet about that. No need to piss off the guy he was forced to deal with, especially when the guy had turned out to be not half bad. A bit boring and too close-lipped about himself but fairly decent. At least he wasn't a nagger like some of the ones Yukimura had foisted on him after the bastard had taken off.

While they ate, Tezuka's phone rang. He looked at Niou as if asking for permission. Niou shrugged. It wasn't like they were hanging out or anything. Besides, if he was lucky at all, it'd be Yukimura or the gorilla saying Niou was allowed back in his place because he wasn't about to walk around in Tezuka's pajamas all day and the thought of wearing yesterday's clothes wasn't exactly the most appealing option either. Then Tezuka did something Niou had never seen the guy do before. He looked at the screen, which was normal, and ended the call. He looked slightly spooked.

“What? You're ex-girlfriend call or something?” Niou joked between bites of egg.

“You're surprisingly close,” Tezuka admitted.

To say Niou would have killed to get his hands on that phone was an understatement. Unfortunately Tezuka seemed to have realized this because the guy tucked it in his pocket. While they might have been on decent terms, Niou wasn't about to stuff his hands down the guy's pockets. That was boundary even he didn't feel comfortable crossing.

“Ex-wife?” Was his next guess. It could explain the bareness of the place.

Tezuka raised an eyebrow. “No,” he answered with what could only be described as an amused tone.

“Woah, don't tell me you're gay and dig guys.” Color Niou shocked if that were the truth. Straight-laced Tezuka gay? Big shocker there. It wasn't like Niou didn't know any gay guys. The ones he knew were just all the exact opposite of Tezuka (except possibly Yukimura's gorilla who was so far up the boss' ass, the guy might as well try to move into the boss' colon).

“You're getting closer.”

“Seriously?”

This was amazing. Early morning Tezuka at home was even better than late night Tezuka at home. He needed to find ways to crash at the manager's place more often. And maybe a way to snag the guy's sofa because Niou was ready to trade in his bed for it. Actually no. A bed made of sofas. That was what he needed.

“It was the artist I used to manage,” Tezuka admitted. He rubbed his temples as if he were already trying to stave off a headache. “He's returned from a trip overseas.”

Who had gone overseas recently? Niou ran through the list of names in his head, trying to figure out who this mysterious artist was. And trying to ignore the fact that the person being back meant that Tezuka would probably be reassigned to the person. He was surprised to find himself somewhat disappointed by that but none of that was as important as trying to figure out who the artist was.

There were a few possibilities but none Niou felt certain about. Outside of a few select individuals, Niou wasn't exactly friendly with the other agency artists, let alone on a level to know who managed who. “You going back to him then?”

Tezuka shook his head. “It's...no, I will not be representing him again.”

That bad? There was only one name Niou could think of that would make someone have that sort of reaction. “Don't tell me you used to deal with the drama queen himself?”

The snort of amusement Tezuka gave was a surprise. “Drama queen is fairly accurate,” he added. “Though I'm sure he'd rather call himself a king.”

Yep, Niou knew who it was now. “You have my sympathy for putting up with that guy. I remember meeting him once when this show wanted us both for parts.” The fact that Niou hadn't throttled the guy for being so damn annoying had been a miracle. “Five minutes in the same room and I was ready to walk out.”

“I managed him for three years.” Tezuka looked at their empty plates and stood, picking his own up and reaching for Niou's.

“How did you survive that?” Niou asked as he followed Tezuka into the kitchen area.

“He's not a bad person, not once you get to know him,” the brunet answered, setting the plates in the sink. “However, that is in the past.”

“Yeah, not really. Not if the guy's calling you. I mean, three years, you two must have been close.” Niou wished he could shut up. It almost felt like they could be talking about his own situation with the bastard which wasn't exactly something he was keen to discuss.

“I requested to be transferred to a different artist because he perceived us to be closer than we were.” Tezuka's lips were drawn in a straight line as he worked on cleaning up the morning dishes. “As it stands, I'd prefer leaving it at that.”

The part of Niou that cared about self-preservation said to not keep bugging the guy about this. Besides, he could see that there were a couple of similarities between their situations. “My last real manager and I were kind of like that,” he admitted. “We were best friends for years or at least, that's what it felt like. Guy was kind of like you in a lot of ways but more of an ass at the same time.”

He knew he should shut up. This wasn't something he wanted to talk about ever. Stupid mouth wouldn't stop though. “He got headhunted by another company and just walked away without saying anything. I haven't heard anything from the bastard since.”

“And that's why you scared every manager away.”

“Fuck you.”

“If I wanted that, I would have stayed with Atobe.”

It was rare that Niou found himself at a loss for words but that's where he found himself.

Tezuka drained the sink. “I appreciated the friendship. I just prefer not being treated like I'm the one in the wrong for not wanting a romantic relationship with someone who kept trying to push it on me.”

Who knew Atobe swung that way or that Tezuka was the guy's type? Still, Niou couldn't exactly blame the guy if that's what had happened.

“So what's on the schedule for today?”

Because honestly, the only way to deal with crap was just to move on. The stuff Tezuka dealt with was more or less done and it wasn't like that bastard Yagyuu was coming back so they might as well make the best of the situation. Which for Niou meant figuring out a way to snag Tezuka's comfy sofa and avoiding Yukimura for the time being.


End file.
